


The Beau and the Slytherin

by GhostsThough



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, FrUk Gift Exchange, Future-fic, Gift Exchange, Gift Fic, Humor, I had no idea what the title should be, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, One Shot, Pottertalia, Pre-Relationship, contrary to the title, francis and arthur are adults, so sorry if it's not the best fit, soft romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostsThough/pseuds/GhostsThough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All good moments have to be ruined, but not all ruined moments have to be a bad thing, especially when it involves mistletoe. ONE SHOT</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beau and the Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harlecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlecat/gifts).



> Hello, harlecat! I'm CatTasticLuv on tumblr, and I was your giver for the FrUk New Years Exchange! I really hope you like this and had a good New Years!  
> Many thanks go towards Nariel Helyanwe for the amazing beta!  
> *Vladimir is Romania in this.

_“Here.”_

 

A box was thrown into Francis's lap, and tumbled in between his thighs. It was wrapped neatly in paper that changed color every few seconds, with white snowflakes falling slowly in the foreground. It glimmered in the firelight, like it was dusted with glitter.

 

Glancing up from the quick inspection, in the low lighting, Francis could just make out the distinct outline of Arthur. An orange glow illuminated familiar shaggy blond hair, scowling emerald green eyes, a small round face, and crossed arms.

 

 _“Quoi?”_ Francis asked questionably, picking up the box carefully and inspecting every surface. You could never be too sure with Arthur, and right now he wondered if the box contained something that could hurt him.

 

“Dammit frog,” he heard Arthur grumble, “It's a present.”

 

Francis could just imagine the blush appearing across Arthur's cheeks as he said that.

 _That is, if it wasn’t already there,_ Francis thought smugly.

 

“'ow do I know it's not a trap?” Francis asked, if only to rile the former Slytherin up while shifting the box hand-to-hand. It was a hobby for the Frenchmen to anger his friend, and while plenty of times in the very beginning of their friendship (while they were in the last year at their respective schools), when it was just Francis initiating things, he had eventually gotten through Arthur’s reclusive attitude and had him doing the same thing back just as soon afterwards in the form of biting, sarcastic replies.

 

Francis vaguely remembered it, but a Quidditch match between them and Francis getting knocked off his broomstick by Arthur practically sealed their fate.

 

However, Francis didn’t know it back then because when he woke to the Slytherin by his bedside, he had been surprised, especially when he was given a grumbled apology.  Afterwards, Arthur had tried to leave, but Francis’ hold on his wrist halted him. Maybe Francis would've said thank you or pecked his hand or something equally charming, but with a bad concussion and his vision swirling, all he managed was to vomit on the Slytherin’s shoes. Needless to say, his concussion didn’t improve in the wake of the stinging slap he, in the Frenchman’s opinion, unjustly received (it was an _accident!_ ).

 

Now, at twenty-six, and plenty of years after graduating Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Francis was an ever-present customer at (what he insisted was) a dark magic shop Arthur worked at in Diagon Alley. His employer, Vladimir, was a slightly older man with almond-shaped eyes, rose-tinted pupils, chin-length strawberry blonde hair…and vampire teeth. Francis tended to avoid him on his daily visits.

 

“It's Christmas!” Arthur's exclamation broke Francis from his thoughts.

 

A smirk stretched across Francis's lips. “Indeed it is.” Anyone should know; the date was marked on every calendar. But to see the growing heat in that glare from the firelight’s reflection on those green pools was a gift in itself.

 

“Frog,” was Arthur's deemed response.

 

And though Francis still didn't know the reasons behind the 'generosity' (it was still left up for debate), he went forth in carefully pulling apart the wrapping paper.

 

When an end was opened, Francis slid a cardboard box out from the wrapping. There, he undid the tape holding the lid down, and opened the box to see--

 

Francis' eyes widened.

 

“I found it somewhere while out. The storekeeper said it's made out of real gold. It's probably fool's gold for all I know, but I--”

 

Francis cut off Arthur's ramblings with a raised hand. He had to make sure what he was seeing was real; he didn't expect this from Arthur. “But still, _you got me-?”_

 

“ _Yes,_ so what if I did?” Arthur turned his head at Francis's disbelieving look, cheeks sporting a red hue.

 

There was silence for a moment, with Francis staring down at the gift he held delicately in his hands, his face slightly warm. He smiled softly. “Thank you…”

 

Arthur cleared his throat. “Yeah, well…” Embarrassed green eyes connected with delighted blue ones,“I’m… _glad_ you like it.” 

 

It seemed that he had been wrong about the Englishman’s generosity. Francis hummed to himself, this Christmas would truly be perfect if-

 

“Arthur, look at what I found 'n the dungeon!” Like all good moments, they just had to be ruined.

 

Vladimir bounded up through the floorboards from an invisible staircase and thrusted something held in pinched fingers between their heads. With a start, Francis and Arthur jumped, and turned wide stares towards the Romanian.

 

In Vladimir's hand, between Francis and Arthur's heads, dangled mistletoe. It was preserved in a pink glow, containing its freshness for how many years.

 

Vladimir, oblivious to the horrified looks, stared at it curiously. “It must've come from that party I had last year. Some American wizard from Brakebills Academy came and brought it to hang over a doorway...” Vladimir looked between Arthur and Francis. “Do you two know why?”

 

Arthur shook his head frantically, waving his hands in a panic as Francis's look of surprise morphed into one of malicious glee. He got up from his seat (putting his gift aside) and turned to his frienemy with an eagerness that rivaled that of Feliciano with his pasta.

 

“Oh, do I.” With that, he dove down towards a wide-eyed Arthur, and planted a kiss on an ample cheek, warm from the intensity of the Englishman's blush. Surprise was evident in both Vladimir and Arthur's faces: One from the unexpected peck and the latter from which the kiss landed.

 

Arthur sputtered, trying to get something out, before murmuring, “I thought you would have--”

 

“ _Oui_ , but I already 'ave enough bruises from your slaps.”

 

“Fool,” Arthur said, his eyebrows furrowing. “At least do it _right_.”

_“Quoi--?”_

 

Abruptly, Francis's words were cut off by chapped lips pressing to his, in a kiss that only lasted for a second – enough for the Frenchman to register the fact that Arthur's lips were against his– before it was gone. The blur of Arthur's face up close came into focus after he pulled away, displaying a red face and angry eyes. If looks could kill, Francis would've been struck dead in an instant.

 

“That's all you're going to get, you hear me, frog?”

 

A smirk had begun to make its way across his lips, making Arthur raise his hackles in warning.

 

“Any other mistletoe will be ignored – _are you listening to me?”_

_“Non,”_ Francis answered.

 

The mistletoe was plucked from Vladimir’s hand from the grinning Frenchman and suddenly Arthur was out of the room, Francis in hot pursuit. The mistletoe was held above Francis’s head as he called out for the running Englishman, jokingly making gross smacking noises and kissy lips.

 

Vladimir smiled, shaking his head at them, and turned to go back through the enchanted floorboards. However, before he could return to scavenging through the basement, the gleam of the forgotten gift on the couch caught his eye.

 

Inside an open-lidded box laid a pocket-watch. It was opened, showing a black and white moving picture of Arthur and Francis as young adults standing in front of Honeydukes. Arthur was wrapped up in a striped scarf with Francis standing beside him, his arm around his companion, in his issued Beauxbatons outfit. They were both playfully shoving each other back-and-forth, and though Arthur was frowning (while  Francis was grinning widely), Vladimir could spot the unmistakable happiness in dark gray eyes as they watched the Frenchman beside him.

 

“Those two...” Vladimir shook his head, turning away from the scene. They’re adults and weren’t even aware of how they felt for each other. It was truly ridiculous.

 

But with Arthur’s yelling suddenly getting cut off by what was undeniably Francis kissing him, Vladimir just knew it was only a matter of time until they were officially together.  


End file.
